Deadpool: Hope my girl loves the gift I have for her.
(Credit goes to who made this)
Today's Document
Cosmic Funnies

tannertan36
ojovivo

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KIROKAZE
Claire Keane

Kaledo Art
Monterey Bay Aquarium

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
i don't do bad sauce passes

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Xuebing Du
d e v o n

pixel skylines
dirt enthusiast
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NASA

if i look back, i am lost
AnasAbdin
seen from Germany

seen from Brazil
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seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Taiwan

seen from Türkiye

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
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seen from South Korea
@foreveracountryangel
Deadpool: Hope my girl loves the gift I have for her.
(Credit goes to who made this)
Gangster Dean Winchester AU
gif credit (x)
No Choice - Dean Winchester is a gangster and notorious bank robber in the United States in 1944, shortly after the end of WWII.
No Choice Teaser Video by karlabaza
Part 1 - Imagine being kidnapped by the most notorious bank robber of the 1940′s, Dean Winchester. But is he really the bad guy he’s been made out to be? Trying times make people do crazy things.
Part 2 - The reader has been kidnapped by notorious bank robber, Dean Winchester. She comes to realize there may be more to him than she first imagined.
Part 3 - Notorious bank robber, Dean Winchester and the reader spend some time alone.
Part 4 - Dean and the reader have to make a fast getaway.
Part 5 - Dean’s brother, Sam, makes an appearance. Things between the reader and Dean head in an interesting direction.
Part 6 - The reader learns about Dean’s past, while her future, as well as Sam’s and Dean’s, hangs in the balance.
Part 7 - Can Dean rescue the reader from Crowley? And if he does, what then?
Part 8 - Dean and the reader are on the run.
Part 9 - Dean will do whatever it takes to protect the reader from Crowley.
Epilogue
January 17, 2016
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
@it-takes-courage-to-be-you have you freaking heard this??
A Valiant Steed Named Baby
Author: Scottmccallmeishmael
Original Imagine Link: Imagine Dean telling your daughter a story as he tucks her in at night.
Warnings: (If your fic contains self-harm, abuse, anything that would be triggering, please note it here) N/A
Word Count: 448
Fic/Link to Fic:
She was so fussy, grumbling and fidgeting even after you had wrestled her into her pajama top, but it was getting late. It was well beyond her bed time, after all.
“Kara! Please, stop fighting me. It’s time for bed, honey.”
“No!” she squealed, voice pitched as high as possible. Her fist flung out to push her bottoms away, smacking into her chin as you struggled to get her into her pants.
You stopped, dropping the bottoms, and looked at her, wide-eyed. She stopped, too, frozen on the spot as your chin blossomed a red mark from where she’d hit you.
“Fine,” you breathed, standing upright. “Fine.” Without another word, you turn, and walked out of the room, not saying a word as you storm passed Dean. His fingers brushed your arm, but you didn’t stop, didn’t say a word, as you moved towards the bathroom, and locked the door behind you.
You weren’t…mad at her, really. You loved Kara; after all, she was your daughter, and she got her feistiness from both you and Dean. But god, some nights, it was almost too much. You leaned into the sink, frowning at the mark on your chin, before pressing a cool cloth to it. It wasn’t going to make it go away, but it did help the sting of the impact.
After a few minutes, you sigh, and drop the rag back into the sink, shuffling back towards Kara’s bedroom. You were angry when you stormed out, but you had to make sure she knew why, and it wasn’t a permanent thing.
You weren’t prepared for the sight you saw, instead.
Kara was dressed, completely, and tucked in beneath her pink and black comforter, arms clutching to the stuffed bear you had bought her just before she was born. She was smiling up at Dean, who saw on the side of the bed, fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, and voice soft across the room.
“And then, the handsome prince and his valiant steed rescued the beautiful princess from the witch, whisking her away from the danger of the castle. And the beautiful princess immediately fell in love with the most handsome prince in the land, and they lived happily ever after.”
“With their val-ant steed?” Kara asked, stifling a yawn. Dean grinned, nodding.
“Yes, sweetheart. With their valiant steed.” The little girl blinked up at him, before tilting her head.
“What was the steeds name?”
Dean’s eye met yours as you stood silent in the doorframe, before he smiled a bit softer, and looked down at Kara.
“The steed’s name was Baby,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “TIme for bed, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, sweetie.”
2X09 CROATOAN
that face though...
Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it”
Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect.
To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha.
On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious.
I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair…
Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair.
The lengths we go for music.
Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek.
One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.”
And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is:
[stifled giggling]
[reeeeeeally deep breath]
[COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE]
The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture.
In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.”
FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part.
This is the best band post
Everyone else go home
Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this
which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until,
that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that
Who does that?
This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose.
Julius IdontgivaFucik
More like Julius Fuckit
Pyrozod’s tags for this were too hilarious not to share
I’m literally crying and only music people will really understand this but I see our tuba section doing this xD like I’m dead
thats insane
Dark Eyes & Dark Nights
Prompt: Hi! :) Can you write an imagine where Dean comes back from being a Demon and Y/N wants to run after him and hug Dean but Sam pulls Y/N back and make sure that Dean isn’t a Demon anymore? Lots of fluff? :)
Triggers: nightmare, post-nightmare behavior
Word Count: 1,022
Keep reading
Thanks, Doc.
I’m not crying there’s just a DeLorean in my eye. :’)
Tomorrow is the last day the future will still be the future, before forever being in the past. I’m not ready.
Who just threw onion juice in my eyes???
@wumpusinthetardis
That was so beautiful to read.
Love Doc! Looking forward to my future
The Park Rangers
Summary: Park ranger threesome based on this post (because I saw it in anotherwinchesterfangirl’s tags).
Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret
Characters: Dean Winchester x female reader x Sam Winchester
Word Count: 3093
Warnings: Language, smut, nsfw, explicit sexual content, double penetration (if this is not your thing, DO NOT read!), threesome (no Wincest)
Author’s Notes: This is not necessarily set during 10.4 Paper Moon, I’m assuming the boys have used those uniforms before (or after). Also, this is my first time writing double penetration, so be nice.
Keep reading
@salvachester & @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog
Can you imagine you’re in the treadmill and this little shit looks at you like that?
I would just die... <3 <3 <3
That’s My Shirt - Part 2
Original Imagine: Imagine Dean waking you up in the middle of the night for sex. Sequel to That’s My Shirt.
Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret
Characters: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: 1206
Warnings: Language, smut, nsfw, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex
Author’s Notes: Wanted to get this out a day earlier, but life got in the way, so here it is, just a day later than expected.
Keep reading
That’s My Shirt
Original Imagine: Imagine Dean’s face as you crawl up the bed towards him wearing only his shirt. Image made by aprofoundbondwithdean.
Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret
Characters: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: 1531
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, smut (sort of), nsfw, fingering
Author’s Note: None
Keep reading
Words of Wisdom from Dean Winchester
Feel You
Characters: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 3,480ish…my hand slipped.
Warnings: Smut
A/N: I like this. Hope this is close to what was requested. Feedback is appreciated lovelies!
“Dean, are you okay?!”
You sprinted towards Dean who was now lying on his back coughing and sputtering like he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him. You heard the witch say something right before Sam killed her but you hadn’t been close enough to make out the words. Hopefully Sam had because lord knows what was going to happen to Dean now if the witch put some sort of spell on him.
By the time you reached him his coughing fit had stopped and you knelt down next to him, your eyes scanning up and down his body to check for any signs of injury. He looked fine and for a moment you thought maybe the witch didn’t get the chance to finish whatever magic she was working on him. And then he opened his eyes.
Keep reading
Congratulations, you're an amazing writer!!! Would you write a prompt were Dean has been searching for you for a long time and when he founds you he apologise for hurting you and says he would follow you anywhere and some nice smut :)
Never Meant to Hurt You
Author’s Note: set during season 3, before Dean goes to Hell
Warnings: kind of angsty, smut, Dean smut
“Six years, Y/N!” Dean’s voice was raised, but you couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. “Six years I’ve been looking for you!”
“It wasn’t like I was hiding, Dean,” you retorted. “I’ve been right here.”
“I never thought you’d come back here,” he said. “Not after what happened.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and licked his lips nervously. He dropped into the recliner behind him, sitting on the edge of it. “Look, I…I need to apologize. I never wanted to hurt you. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel like shit because of what happened.”
“I never blamed you,” you said quietly. “But I couldn’t live like that anymore. I had to walk away.” You glanced nervously at the hunter sitting across your living room from you. Six years hadn’t changed the way you felt about him. “It wasn’t because I stopped loving you.”
Dean didn’t move for a good thirty seconds, he just stared at a spot on the wall above your head. You were beginning to think he hadn’t heard you or maybe he was intentionally ignoring what you’d said, trying to think of some way to tell you that he’d never loved you.
“And now?” he asked. “How do you feel about me now?”
You weren’t sure, but you could have sworn you heard a slight waver in his voice. You cleared your throat, watching him carefully. You couldn’t be sure what his reaction would be, but you’d never lied to Dean and you weren’t about to start now.
“I still love you, Dean,” you murmured. “I’ll always love you.”
“But?” he mumbled.
“There is no but,” you replied. “I love you. Even after six years, I love you. I think about you all the time and I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t left. Right now all I can think about is whether or not kissing you would feel just as good as it did before.”
Dean propelled himself off of the recliner so fast you didn’t have time to blink before he pulled you into his arms and smashed his lips against yours. He gently sucked at your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth, nipping it gently. His hands on your waist were a familiar, comfortable weight, one you hadn’t realized you’d missed until that second. His scent - Old Spice, leather and gunpowder - filled your nose, sense memories flooding your head. God, he even tasted the same, like coffee and mint gum. You couldn’t help the desperate moan that left your mouth as his tongue slid past your teeth, exploring what he was already intimately familiar with.
All that mattered in that moment was Dean. You needed him like the air you breathed, wanted him like you’d always wanted him.
And he knew, just like he always had. He’d always been able to read you like a book and that hadn’t changed. You didn’t have to say a word, because Dean was pulling off his shirt and toeing off his boots, somehow still kissing you despite the removal of his clothing. You followed suit, making short work of the sparse amount of clothing you’d been wearing when Dean pounded on your door at two a.m.
“Jesus, I missed you,” Dean growled. “Every inch of you.” He kissed a trail down your neck to your breasts, suckling at each of them in turn, smiling as you moaned and squirmed beneath him. He was just as good with his mouth as you remembered, maybe better.
His hand hovered over you, close enough to touch, but not quite doing it, as he looked up and into your eyes. “I can’t stay, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if I could, but that’s not going to happen. I need to know that you’re okay with that, before we do anything else.” His eyes were filled with a sadness you’d never seen before, one you couldn’t possibly understand.
You wanted to question him, delve into that brain of his and figure out what was going on, why he seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, but something in the way he was looking at you, in the way need seemed to be radiating from him, stopped you. Your answer was to take his hand and pull it between your legs, sighing as his fingers brushed over your warm core.
Dean’s nose brushed against yours as he kissed you, his fingers slipping carefully inside you, just to the first knuckle, teasing you, caressing your inner walls, pushing you right to the cusp of an orgasm. Your hips rose to meet his fingers, silently begging for more. Dean slid his arm around your back, his fingers sinking into you, the palm of his hand pressed against your clit, holding you as he used his hand to push you closer and closer to the edge, long, thick fingers pumping in and out of you, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth moved over your neck and breasts.
You groaned in protest when Dean moved, shifting to his back, pulling you with him. He positioned you so you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. You put your hands on his chest and lowered yourself onto him, whimpering as he filled you. Once he was fully seated inside you, he put his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you.
You moved, sliding your hips forward, meeting Dean thrust for thrust. His head dropped back, his eyes squeezed closed, low, quiets grunts of pleasure emanating from him. Every tip of his hips brushed his cock against your sweet spot, his pelvic bone pressed against your clit, stimulating the tiny nub of nerves, rapidly pushing you to orgasm. You tensed around him as you came, clenching, working him like he’d worked you, pulling him with you, both of you climaxing together.
Once it was over, you lay sprawled over him, breathing heavily, your fingers intertwined with his. Dean kept pressing soft kisses to the top of your head, rubbing your back.
You must have fallen asleep, because the next time you opened your eyes, the sun was just peeking through the drapes of your living room. You were still on the couch, a blanket from your bedroom thrown over you. You sat up, calling Dean’s name. When he didn’t answer, you glanced around, looking for the note you know he’d left you. It was on the coffee table, held down by your gun.
I never meant to hurt you. I love you, too. - D
10 Ways to Imagine Dean Giving You His Jacket Because He Thinks You're Showing Too Much Skin (without making him a msyoginistic a$$hole)
Author: coltsandquills
Original Imagine: Here
Warnings: Few swears, mildly suggestive content
Word Count: Varies (few hundred words each)
A/N: ♡s or reblogs of the actual drabbles are appreciated, since I won’t see activity on this post! ☺
Fics:
#1. Miscommunication
#2. Situationally Challenged (Dean x Reader)
#3. Murphy’s Quantum Law (Sam x Reader)
#4. Summer Lovin’ (Dean x Reader)
#5. Card Collusion (or, The One Where Dean Cheats at Strip Poker)
#6. Sticky Business
#7. Little Black Dress (Kevin x Reader)
#8. Three Hunters and a Baby
#9. Break Time (Dean x Reader)
#10. Promises (Dean x Reader)
spn hiatus creations; week eleven: ↳ impala or bunker